During the evening, I was strolling aimlessly in the lonely streets of the Nehru colony. The slanting and shimmering rays of sunlight slowly faded as the sun sank below the horizon. The darkness started taking over light as it gloomed over the streets. The streets were lit dimly, and the trees on either side of the road made eerie sounds. The night's cold wind rushed through my hair as if trying to take away all my positive energy. It was as if cruel disappointment had descended over the colony and had been sucked out of all happiness.
It was getting so late that I decided to head back towards my apartment. On my way back, I encountered no one. The streets were gloomy and mysterious as they had ever been. I was about to reach my place when I heard a girl screaming from a house on my right. I stopped at once and wondered what might have happened. A part of mine was urging me to go forth and investigate the case; therefore, I began walking steadily towards the house. The house windows were clattering, and the curtains were dancing mournfully. The dining room was dimly lit by a candle. I peeked through the window pane and saw two men in long black cloaks standing near the kitchen counter. One was bulky and had a well-marked scar on his face, while the other had his back to me. The latter was cleaning something off with a handkerchief. I craned slightly to get a better view and was utterly bewildered. I just couldn't believe my eyes. A woman of about thirty to forty years of age lay still and silent on the floor, now covered with blood flowing from her neck.
I was horrorstruck and shocked by the sight of it.